


Merlin's Hands

by LarielAris



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 16:22:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13438632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarielAris/pseuds/LarielAris
Summary: Arthur is fascinated by Merlin's hands





	Merlin's Hands

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing.

Merlin's Hands

 

 Arthur loved watching Merlin's hands.  It was mesmerizing to watch hands, that knew nothing of the art of swordsmanship, slowly run over the blade.  Whether it was cleaning or polishing, it made no difference.  It was like the hands of a lover running fingers over every inch of steel.  He'd seen many care for their blades before, but none of them seemed to hold his attention like this.

At first he told himself that it was just because it was his sword that was being almost caressed by those nimble fingers, but deep down he knew that wasn't true.  He had never had this fascination in the past. That meant it had to be the hands themselves, or rather who they belonged to.  So he watched those hands as they cared for other’s blades.  None of them got a quite the same reverence.  Sure a few were close, cared for like they were important, but not to the same extent as his.  It was only his that could compared to a lover.

  
The sword was the first, but after that he started to notice other things, small lingering touches when his clothes were being folded, or how those hands smoothed down the sheets as if they were running over exposed skin and trying to memorize every inch.  There were even some mornings, when he's had a troublesome night before, when his breakfast had something small, a little gesture , to brighten his day, like a strawberry out of season, or a honey biscuit that he knew wasn't supposed to be with that meal.  

  
He wasn't the only one who saw these things too.  There were those fleeting longing looks directed at those nimble fingers, from those that would do anything to get that same treatment.  Nonetheless everyone knew, even if no one dared to speak of it, that all those little things were for him and only him.

  
Being who he was, he expected people to have some kind of love or reverence for him.  Somehow this stood out as different.  This wasn't done for the sake of what he was, but rather who he was.  Who he really was underneath everything he used to make the world think he was strong and confident, and the leader he’d been moulded to be.  No, this one person would no doubt treat him the same even if he was nothing to the rest of the world.  He could be no one and that one person would treat him the same.

  
He used to think that had things been different they would have been friends, but as time went on his thoughts changed.  They were friends, possibly the only real friend he’d ever had. Had things been different maybe they could have been more than friends, even more than lovers. To the rest of the world they were nothing more than king and servant. That was all they could be.

  
It wasn't until the day he felt those hands holding him as he lay dying that he knew he was wrong.  They were more than just king and servant, more than just friends.  They were two sides of the same coin.  It made him want to tell Merlin just how much he meant to him.  How Merlin had made him a better king and an even better person.

  
Maybe they couldn't have been more in Camelot, but after being dead for a thousand years Arthur felt that they both deserved it now.  

 

 

 


End file.
